


The Visit

by cheshireArcher



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, Henry V - Shakespeare, Het woud der verwachting | In a Dark Wood Wandering - Hella S. Haasse
Genre: 100 Years War, Exile, Gen, Historical figures and Shakespeare OCs, Let Orleans say fuck, Politics, Post- Henry V, Treason (of a sort), dealing with the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 09:43:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshireArcher/pseuds/cheshireArcher
Summary: 1423. Montjoy visits the Duke of Orléans in exile.





	The Visit

**Author's Note:**

> From an idea by gentle_herald-- Montjoy visits Orléans after the death of Henry V and deals with the reprecussions of his decisions. 
> 
> (And yes, Orléans gets to say it. He deserves it at this point) 
> 
> (And a reference to the movie The Lives of Others.)

The most disturbing thing about the imprisonment of nobles is that it doesn't look like a prison. Nobles are kept in essentially the same conditions they're used to but there remains the lingering fact that they are held prisoner. 

Montjoy, former chief herald of France, thought about this as he entered the solar of one of these prisons. Maybe this was worse than the dank, cold dungeons lesser men were chained in to suffer. This was humiliation because captives had everything except freedom. 

He found it strangely ironic that he could easily have ended up here himself, dishonored and discredited for what he'd done in the years after Agincourt. Maybe he deserved it, he thought, although he had only been trying to help. Despite his good intentions, everything backfired and now he had his own consequences.

Charles, Duke of Orléans was held in a very nice prison in England and had been now for eight years. He'd been captured at the Battle of Agincourt and there had been no chance of ransom-- the victorious Henry V, King of England had made sure of that. The young duke was the nephew of Charles VI, King of France, and he posed a very real threat to Henry's claim to the throne. The Dauphin may have been disinherited but there were others from the house of Valois to contend with, and keeping Orléans out of circulation was one step in solidifying power.

But now Henry was dead and the king of England and France was a baby who could do little more than teeth on the crown. 

Montjoy had placed so much faith in uniting France and England. He had seen that chance in Henry V but now he wasn't sure Henry had the same intentions in uniting the two kingdoms. Now Montjoy would never know. 

Today he visited Orléans for the first time. The younger man had changed in seven years. The first thing Montjoy noticed was his voice.

"It's been a long time," Orléans said. He spoke in French but with an audible English accent. "What brings you here?"

"I was in the area," Montjoy said, which was more or less the truth. "They asked if I wanted to see you."

"I appreciate it," Orléans said. "I don't have many visitors." He gestured to a bench and Montjoy took it. 

"Are you due to be released?" Montjoy asked. 

"No. I'm here indefinitely. The King made sure of that. I'm too much a threat apparently."

"The King?" 

"...The last one. Henry V." The way he said it sounded like Orléans thought it tasted bad. 

King Henry of England, Fifth of that name had invaded France to take his right to the French crown, spurred on by a foolish insult from the Dauphin, Louis of Guyenne. Montjoy had been the one to deliver the message, knowing full well what that chest held. That was the first time he met Henry, but not the last. And remembered the last time.

"What have you done while here?" Montjoy asked, not sure what to talk about with a man who had been held prisoner for nearly ten years.

"Oh, they let me out to hunt," Orléans said. "I write." 

Montjoy had a faded memory of a much younger Duke, scratching in a commonplace book in solitude, in his own world of whatever he was writing. 

"Poetry, mainly," Orléans continued, sparing Montjoy the awkwardness of asking. "I've found I've written a lot about spring."

They both looked toward the window. The sky was a miserable gray as winter refused to relinquish its hold on the English countryside. 

"No wonder," Montjoy said. 

"How long have you been in England?" Orléans asked. 

"A year now," Montjoy replied. "I have thought about going back to France, but..."

"I heard something about the court not wanting you back," Orléans said. Montjoy had hoped that topic wouldn't be brought up. 

"My period of service was up," Montjoy said. "Besides, I saw some benefit in working for England." 

"Before the King died, right?"

"Yes. Now I don't know how things will go with the new king, how England and France will be managed under his regents-"

"Did you just say England AND France?" Orléans's brown eyes had narrowed. 

Montjoy swallowed. "Yes," he continued. "Henry VI IS king of England and France, heir of Henry V his father and Charles VI his grandfather."

"He's the son of a would-be usurper," Orléans said. He stood and started pacing.

"If his father had lived, the wars could have ended."

"And so would French sovereignty," Orléans said, stopping in front of Montjoy.

"That's over now though," Montjoy said quietly. "Henry is gone." 

He had trusted Henry. He had hoped Henry would be the one to not only end the war but unite the kingdoms in peace. Henry had been more determined than his predecessors, his father Henry and the usurped king Richard II, to take his right as king of France. 

"You might as well have betrayed France outright," Orléans said. "Didn't you see what he did at Agincourt? And demanded Catherine and the crown? Do you think he honestly cared for France? You seriously fucked up here." 

"I wanted to help." Montjoy buried his face in his hands, not crying, but in emotional exhaustion. "I just wanted to do what was best for both kingdoms," he said. "I may have been wrong in trusting Henry." 

All of Montjoy's dreams of a united England and France were dead along with Henry. He had not only trusted the English king with this idealism, he had staked his career on it. Orléans was right. France didn't want him back and he had no place in England.

"Henry's the reason you defected," Orléans said quietly.

Montjoy couldn't bring himself to say anything, as true as it was.

Orléans had every reason to hate Henry, the man who had destroyed France, a country already rotting from the inside with a mad king and few worthy heirs. Agincourt alone had cost ten thousand French lives. One of those lost was Charles d'Albret, High Constable of France. Montjoy never admitted he'd known about Orléans and the Constable. Orléans must still have been coming to terms with his lover's death.

How does one bear that sort of loss.

Montjoy felt like he was, though it had never happened. Either Henry had not noticed Montjoy's feelings (which he thought were obvious) or he ignored them. Of course a king would never take a herald, even chief herald, as a lover. He wasn't completely sure, but perhaps he had defected to the English in part because he loved, in a strange way, King Henry. 

He had defected. 

Orléans was right in saying that. He'd resigned as herald and thrown in his lot with the English. He worked closely with the lords to continue to craft a plan for the joint rule of England and France. He had indeed thought he was doing the right thing. All he wanted was peace for the two kingdoms, where the land of innocent peasants wouldn't be slaughtering grounds for soldiers and the rivalry that cost so many lives over something so petty would end. 

If only the kingdoms of Europe could work together for the good of their subjects...

"You must think I'm a traitor," Montjoy said, his voice low. 

"Yes. Yes I do." 

"I deserve that. I betrayed France, I thought King Henry could bring peace. I should have known." Orléans had been coming to terms with the loss of someone he loved- and was loved by in return. Montjoy realized he himself was dealing with the loss of someone he trusted- who didn't care about his ideas beyond England having the French crown.

"You're not bad, though," Orléans said. He sat down again, facing Montjoy. "You made the wrong decisions and-"

"I know."

"But you meant well. None of us wanted to see others die. We all wanted peace. The rest of us in France wanted peace and to keep the crown. What did you think would happen, when the war ended and Henry was king? That France and England, and maybe all Europe would work together?" 

"Is that not an admirable goal?"

"It won't happen," Orléans said. "You've seen what French politics alone is." He sighed and rubbed his face. "You're a good man, Montjoy. Maybe someday someone will listen to you." 

"Still doesn't help what I did," Montjoy said. "I joined the English and pledged my support to the English crown. France won't take me back since I did that. Or if they did, I'd just be delivering messages to peasants. What do I do now?" 

"Do I look like I know?"

"Fair point."

Montjoy stood to take his leave. "I'll come see you again sometime, if you want."

"I'd like that. Maybe I'll have something written worth showing you." 

Montjoy smiled a bit. 

"A poem for a good man," Orléans mused. He embraced the herald. "Good luck, Montjoy. I can't do anything here. You go change the world."

\----

_Louis Montjoy, Chief Herald of France under King Charles VI was unique among pre-modern political theorists and largely unappreciated in his own time. Between 1415 and 1437, he wrote some fifty essays and at least one book extant, currently held in the Bodleian Library. These works are extraordinary for their subject matter, which is for a pan-European cooperation much like the European Union nearly 600 years later, and that they take the structure of actual plans and proposals rather than theories. The rediscovery of his work in late 2017 shed some light on ideas previously thought to have been the product of globalization. This discovery included a then-unknown poem by Charles,  Duke of Orléans, dedicated to "a good man." The identity of the recipient is still debated, although its inclusion in the binding of a book by Montjoy suggests it was for the other author. Montjoy died in 1450 with no issue._


End file.
